From Sacred Vials
by BelovedArise
Summary: When Cressida Dagworth-Granger falls pregnant during the First War she agrees to go undercover for the Dark Lord, hiding in plain sight. Eleven years later, it's time for Hermione Granger to attend Hogwarts. She has to pass first year, befriend Harry Potter, keep her friendship with Draco Malfoy a secret, and meet her father for the first time. Hogwarts will never be the same.
1. Chapter I: Missing

**Author's Note:** I know this story isn't to a LOT of people's tastes, but I was asked by several people to actually post it, rather than letting it languish in my Google Drive. Hopefully some of you like it as well. This chapter doesn't have any Dramione, but the next chapter will have plenty of adorable childhood cuteness though.

* * *

Lord Voldemort was not an expert in sympathy, but he knew how to affect it and use it, so he patted the head of the Death Eater in front of him comfortingly, if patronisingly. "There, there Cressida." He said in a silky voice. "I am not angry with you. My Death Eaters are encouraged to have children and raise the next generation to the Cause. You've seen the Mulcibers and the Averys, among others. Why are you so upset?"

Cressida shook her head, knees shaking. "I know what he asked for, My Lord. I know where his heart lies. I...I can't. He will marry me, but his heart would be with her. I won't play second fiddle to a mudblood in my own marriage bed. He calls for her in his sleep after bedding me, My Lord." The Death Eater looked up at him with filling whiskey-coloured eyes. "Send me away, My Lord, I beg you. Give me some mission far away and I will do it eagerly."

Voldemort considered this carefully. "If I give you a mission, you may hate it, my dear. Be very careful that you really want to be hidden away. Are you certain?"

Cressida, face tear-streaked, nodded pitifully. "I am certain, My Lord."

Voldemort nodded. This was never an assignment the witch would take unless she was desperate, but she was. His followers were loyal, but some requests would turn even the loyal away. "I will have you concealed in the muggle world." He said solidly. "When we win, I will retrieve you and send you elsewhere, but if anything should happen that I should have to regain my strength you will remain in deep cover. You will raise the baby so that when it goes to Hogwarts, it will gain the trust of those better-than-thou Order members, and she will present herself as a muggleborn."

"My Lord…" Cressida said, worriedly.

Voldemort cut the witch off. "This is your option, Cressida. You can stay here with Severus or I can hide you, but if I hide you, this is what you will do."

Cressida worried her lip, but nodded. "I will do as you ask, My Lord."

Voldemort nodded. "Narcissa, Lucius and Aurora will be your handlers, Aurora is not officially a Death Eater, but she is a friend of yours and Narcissa and already acts like a Witch's Auxiliary for us. I don't want any of the other men to know of this plan and Bella…"

Cressida snorted at the mention of the Black sister. "She'd kill me for a traitor."

Lord Voldemort nodded, not ignorant of how Bellatrix felt about other female Death Eaters. Alecto was ignored because Bella knew, as did the Dark Lord, that Alecto had no interest in men. Cressida on the other hand, was a pretty Parisian pureblood witch from Beauxbatons with an impressive pedigree and powerful magic. She was a rival in Bella's mind. "In time, when the child needs friends with whom it will not have to hide, I'm sure there will be young Malfoys and a Crouch or two to keep it company, as long as it minds that when Hogwarts comes, it must play its' part."

"Yes, My Lord." Cressida said, calmer now that a plan was in place. "I will serve you well."

"Be sure, Cressida. You will meet me tomorrow and make your decision then. Make peace tonight and make your final choice." Voldemort warned.

* * *

Cressida Dagworth-Granger had hidden her romantic nature most of her life. It was easy enough while hiding away in books and behind cauldrons at Beauxbatons. She had never sought out attention or companionship...until a wannabe potions master had shown up on her family's doorstep in France. She loved him to desperation and he...liked her as _something_ , even if his heart belonged to another. It had been enough, even if it hurt; at least she was with him, but ever since she had discovered her pregnancy, she knew she couldn't torture her child just because she was apparently an emotional masochist.

Lying in bed in her flat that night beside him as he read, she rolled over on her side and traced her fingers over his bare chest. There were things she wanted to say, words that got stopped up in her throat. "I was helping Aurora plan her wedding today." She said instead. "She wants me to be a bridesmaid."

Severus made a sound of feigned interest. "Along with Dorothea and Anastasia, I assume."

"I'm not sure, but probably." Cressida agreed. "Would you go with me? To the wedding, I mean."

"I'm really not interested in bearing witness to Barty's romantic drivel, Cress." Severus said, flicking a page.

"Of course." Cressida said, waving her hand. "Forget I've said anything." She kissed his cheek. "Goodnight, Severus."

"Goodnight, Cress." Severus said, almost dismissively.

Cressida feigned sleep for the rest of the night, trying to convince herself that just because he didn't want to go to a wedding with her didn't mean anything. By three in the morning she had almost convinced herself, until she heard him talk in his sleep, like he sometimes did. He never called for her, and she wondered, cynically, if precious _Lily_ had asked him to a wedding if he would have gone.

When morning came she made crepes and smiled as if everything were completely normal. She smiled and floated about as always, but stopped as the time was winding down and when Severus started toward the fireplace, she kissed him with everything she could muster: all her passion, love, hope, fear and jealousy all wound into one kiss. She broke the kiss only when she needed air. "Goodbye. I love you, Severus."

Severus was only slightly startled by the kiss goodbye. Cressida normally kissed him goodbye, and told him she loved him, but there was something different about it today. "I know." He replied, as he usually did, and disappeared into the flames.

Cressida stared into the fireplace for a moment, before putting her hand to her stomach, and giving a slight nod. She could survive it, but the baby didn't deserve this, didn't deserve to be compared to a dream baby with red hair or green eyes. She emptied her flat, packing only essentials and sending the rest to her father's storage unit with a spell.

It was time to go.

* * *

Severus wasn't surprised when he stopped by Cressida's a few days later to find it locked and warded - they hadn't agreed to meet and she had a life of her own. However, when the next Death Eater meeting came and there was no sign of the brunette, he was concerned.

He cornered Narcissa after following Lucius back to the Manor as he usually did. "Narcissa." he said, politely as always.

Narcissa was not surprised, she could see the strain in Severus even as he hid it from everyone else. "Severus," she said with a bright smile. "Is there something I can get you?"

"No, thank you, Narcissa." Severus said, giving her the closest thing most people saw to a smile on his face. "I was wondering if you had seen Cressida? She wasn't at the meeting tonight."

Narcissa's pert little mouth dropped into a frown. "I'm afraid Cressida is on a mission for the Dark Lord. I have no idea when or if she'll return."

Severus was shocked, and despite himself, his surprise showed. "It's dangerous, then?"

Narcissa frowned. "The Dark Lord does not ask us to do things which are easy or simple, Severus." She smiled at her husband's best friend. "I'm sure if she knows you love her, she'll make it a point to come back no matter what she faces."

"Indeed." Severus said, face going blank. "Thank you, Narcissa."

* * *

The London townhouse was nice enough, and once installed Cressida Dagworth-Granger straightened her hair and took on the identity of Dr. Celia Granger, a thing called a 'dentist' in this world, a tooth-healer. It was nondescript enough for no-one to suspect anything, and she settled into her new life deciding to focus on the only things that mattered now: her baby and her mission.

She would endure.

* * *

On September eighteenth, more than a few months after Cressida had disappeared, something very strange happened in the midst of a Death Eater meeting that was being held at Malfoy Manor. Aurora Sinistra, unmarked fiancee of Barty Crouch Junior, burst into the room. "Cissa!" She said gasping, obviously from wherever she was breathing hard. "We need as many blood-replenishers and as much dittany as you can get your hands on _now_."

Narcissa was instantly on her feet. "What's happening?" She demanded, even as she called for an elf. "Dobby, dittany and blood replenishers!"

"It's Cress." Aurora said, in a rush. "She's bleeding out. The healer's running out of potions and we can't take her to St. Mungo's."

Narcissa gasped in surprise, even as the elf appeared with a bag that was clinking from vials. "We has no dittany, Mistress."

"Severus…" Voldemort said from his place at the head of his table. "I assume you have some in your stores."

Severus, paler than normal, nodded. "I do, My Lord."

"Fetch it, quickly." Voldemort said, with some annoyance, as if he had expected the Potions' Master to leave without a dismissal.

With a brief nod, the Potions master disappeared, and Narcissa handed off the bag of potions to Aurora. "Go back. I'll bring the dittany when Severus returns."

Aurora didn't question, grabbing the bag and running for the Floo. Narcissa watched her go, and attempted her best well-bred apologies, even as her forehead creased in worry. "I am sorry for the interruption, My Lord."

Voldemort waved off the apology. "The mission comes first, Narcissa." Chatter had picked up on what sort of mission Cressida could possibly be on, even as Severus arrived with a beaker of dittany.

Narcissa took hold of it, but Severus didn't let go. "I want to go with you."

"No." The Dark Lord said firmly. "You are to stay here until Aurora and Narcissa return. Should Cressida die, then you may go with them, and then you will take on some of her mission."

Narcissa waited until Severus's fingers released the beaker and she Disapparated straight through the wards of the Manor.

* * *

Aurora ran a hand through her braids as she shook her head, looking at the baby now laying quietly in Narcissa's arms. "I want children eventually, but I think it'll be a few years before Barty and I try."

"Really?" Narcissa asked, swaying slightly. "I can't wait to have children. Lucius and I have been trying for a few months." She hummed slightly. "Would you like a friend, Hermione darling?"

Aurora watched her friend, curious about something she had never really dared to ask before, and even as she asked, her voice was hesitant. "Do you love Lucius?"

Narcissa wasn't offended by the question, and smiled. "Lucius and I love each other in our own ways." She said, easily. "We knew we'd be together as we were growing up, so we never looked for love anywhere else, never wanted to. It's not a storybook romance full of poetry and late-night heart-to-hearts like you and Barty, or the bittersweet love of Cressida for Severus, or even the infatuation Severus has for Lily, but I can't imagine being with anyone else."

"Better than Bellatrix and Rod." Aurora noted, shaking her head.

Narcissa sighed at the mention of her sister. "Bella did her duty, but it wasn't a good match." She admitted. "This will probably the closest I'll get to being an aunt." She leaned her blonde head down to the newborn. "You _are_ a darling little thing."

* * *

Severus paced the floor of Lucius's study. Everyone else had gone home from the meeting long ago, but Severus remained, needing to hear what had happened, both because of the Dark Lord's orders, and the fact that he couldn't get the idea of Cressida bleeding to death out of his mind. He knew being a Death Eater was dangerous, but Cressida was skilled and not one to fall easily.

The thought that the last thing he would have ever said to her was that 'I know,' haunted him. He should have said more, he should have at least said...he couldn't even think it.

There was a pop of apparition, and an exhausted looking Narcissa appeared, with a disheveled Aurora. "Lucius," she said, voice wrung out. "I need to take you to modify the healer's memories. Cress said some things that can't be remembered while she was screaming."

"Cressida doesn't scream from pain." Severus said despite himself. He had seen that woman take the Cruciatus at the wand of the Dark Lord and not give in to screaming.

"Well, she did tonight." Aurora snapped at him.

"Aurora." Narcissa scolded. "That's not necessary."

"Is she alright?" Severus asked, voice rougher than normal.

"She's recovering." Narcissa answered, giving him a wan smile. "She'll be fine once she has some time to heal."

"No thanks to you." Aurora muttered.

"Aurora, Severus gave us the dittany." Narcissa reminded the young woman sharply.

Aurora looked sullen. "I'm sorry, but I just listened to her cry for him for _hours_ , so I'm not feeling particularly _charitable_." She argued. "Cress would have never agreed to go on this mission if he wasn't an arse who calls for _Lily-sodding-Potter_ while sleeping in Cress's bed."

Narcissa put a hand to her temple. "Enough, Aurora. Take Lucius to take care of the healer. I'll stay here with Severus." At least one of them could keep a civil tongue in their head.

Aurora, grumbling, left with Lucius, reminding Narcissa just how young the woman was. Narcissa's attention was on the Potions' master though, as he was pale and shaking. She doubted he even noticed. "Sit, Severus." Narcissa ordered. "You look like you're going to faint."

Severus sat down, mostly because his knees felt weak. "She'll really be okay?"

Narcissa sighed slightly. "She's going to be fine. It might take a few days, but she'll be back to normal soon enough."

"When will she be back?" Severus asked, a little selfishly. he wanted to see her for himself, he wanted to apologise and to hold her again. Tell her that she meant something to him, even if he wasn't sure what. She was something good in his life and he had had so little good.

Narcissa didn't quite know how to answer that. "When the war is over." She said finally. "The Dark Lord has her in deep cover. She's to stay there until it's done and the dark is in power, or he mobilises her."

Severus's eyes widened in surprise at that. "Why?" He demanded, even as Aurora's words dug into his skull. "Why would she go like this?"

Narcissa put a well-manicured hand to her head. "Severus…" She said slowly. "Cressida isn't a fool. Aurora may not have put it well, but...when you say Lily's name in your sleep, or refuse to go out in public with her, or only say 'I know,' when she says she loves you...it hurts her, Severus. She loves you desperately. She was in a...position...to carry out this mission and when the Dark Lord asked her if she would take it...she said yes the next day."

Severus felt a flare of guilt in his stomach, realising why she had asked him to take her to the wedding...and he hadn't even bothered to look up from his book. It was the same with the kiss he had replayed in his mind since the first Death Eater meeting Cressida had missed. She was trying to make him give her a reason to say no without risking the Dark Lord's ire by revealing the mission and he...had failed. He'd just have to live with that. He just hoped she was out of danger and maybe happy. She certainly deserved it more than he did.


	2. Chapter II: Snowstorm Waltz

**Author's Note:** I wanted to thank everyone who reviewed, followed, and favourited this work. I hope you all continue to enjoy it. In this chapter we get some cute childhood Dramione moments and some furthering the plot along before Hermione heads to Hogwarts next chapter!

* * *

Cressida hummed thoughtfully as she read, Hermione playing with colourful wooden blocks at her feet. A lot of her time was surprisingly easy, now that the first unknown, nervous hurdles of motherhood had been surmounted. There were always new challenges, but for now, it was peaceful. The peace, however, was broken by quick knocks on the door.

Cressida, startled, touched her shortened hair, made sure her useless glasses were on her face and sighed, getting to her feet. She opened the door expecting perhaps one of the pushy mothers from the mommies group in the neighborhood that was trying to include her, and instead found a glamoured and heavily pregnant Narcissa Malfoy.

" _Cissa_?" Cressida asked, startled, opening the door further to let in her friend. "What are you doing here?" She closed the door behind them, but she was worried. Her handlers had always set up specific appointments to ensure that Cressida was home and that no one would be dropping by unannounced - not that Dr. Celia Granger had much of a social life, it was still a precaution both Aurora and the Malfoys had taken quite seriously.

"New orders." Narcissa replied, for once ignoring her immaculate manners to sit on the sofa and take her weight off of her strained ankles and remove the glamours.

"Cissy!" Hermione said, pulling herself up using the couch. She released the couch and wobbled slightly, almost falling, but managing to catch herself.

"You're growing so quickly, darling!" Narcissa enthused. "Will you come sit next to me?"

"She's growing by leaps and bounds." Cressida admitted, shaking her head. "She's ahead of every milestone every baby book has given me. She said Mama at five months, the baby books swear that's not supposed to happen until eight months - not to mention the standing and...it's enough to make me feel as if I'm going mad."

"With her parentage she was always going to clever." Narcissa said with a smile, picking up Hermione and settling her down beside her. The blonde woman sighed, wishing they could just visit and have tea, but she was here for a reason. "The Dark Lord has found out about a new prophecy...about a child that will be born in July."

Cressida's hope flagged and she sighed. "I'm not coming home anytime soon, am I?" She had requested to be sent away, and agreed to this deep cover, but she had not anticipated how isolated she truly was. She had imagined a little cottage somewhere that she could be cooped up in with her baby and books and cauldrons...but that was too risky. Aurora said they would try and find a place that she could go to do magic, where the Ministry wouldn't pick up on it, but any magic here, even potions, could break her muggle cover.

"No." Narcissa agreed, patting her friend's hand as Hermione curled up on the pregnant woman's lap, her head pressed onto the swollen stomach. "No, I think this will take a long time."

* * *

Cressida held Hermione's hand in her own as they walked toward the brick building. It was a pleasant looking building, with ivy climbing the sides, but it was quite imposing to the witch. Today was Hermione's first day at daycare. Dr. Celia Granger couldn't take any more time off, it had taken quite a bit of wrangling and magic on her behalf to make it this long. Taking a deep breath, and fighting the wish that she could be curled up somewhere with a proper family and a proper life, she opened the door and led Hermione inside.

"Hello, Dr. Granger!" The smiling director of _Miss Mary's Centre for Gifted Children_ said as they entered. "And this must be Hermione! I'm Miss Mary."

"Hello, Miss Mary." Hermione said seriously.

Miss Mary beamed at the well-mannered child. "Do you have a nickname for the other children to call you?"

"No…" Hermione said, perplexed.

Miss Mary smiled. "Well, Hermione is quite a mouthful. How about if we call you Mia?"

Hermione frowned and looked up at the woman, somehow still managing to look at her as if she were frog spawn when the woman was so much taller. "My name is Hermione not Mia."

Cressida had to hide her expression at that, she had thought Hermione had no real masculine influence in her life, but apparently Hermione had picked up a few things from Lucius after all. The wizard didn't visit all that often, but that expression was one of his. "Sweetheart, you let Draco call you Mine."

Hermione looked at her mother, lip wobbling. "That's different!"

Cressida raised an eyebrow at her daughter. "Why?"

"Cause!" Hermione argued.

Cressida sighed and smiled apologetically at Miss Mary. "I'm sorry. Maybe when she makes a few friends she'll relax a little." Secretly, Cressida didn't think so. For some reason, when Draco gave something a name, it stuck. A perfectly serviceable house elf that had been called Goldie had been dubbed 'Gimme,' by the spoilt Malfoy scion and it had stuck. The elf didn't even answer to Goldie anymore. Apparently Hermione was slightly more circumspect, but no one else got to shorten (or mangle) her name. She pressed a kiss to Hermione's forehead. "Behave for Miss Mary, all right?"

"Yes, Maman." Hermione replied, dutifully walking over to the smiling caretaker. "Have a good day."

* * *

When a distraught Aurora appeared at her door, Cressida knew better than to assume that she was being called home. The usually put together young woman was a mess, and Cressida drew her inside, before anyone on the street saw the woman in the violet cloak.

"What's happened, Rory?" Cressida asked, pulling her into the parlour, and sitting her down, even as the usually strong black woman dissolved into harder sobs. Since she was obviously in no condition to speak, Cressida just held her as she cried, until Aurora had reached some semblance of calm.

"Barty…" Aurora croaked out. "That bastard sent him to a lifetime sentence in Azkaban! _His own son_ …" She let out a sound that was more of a keening wail than a sob.

Cressida gasped in shock, and then hugged Aurora tighter. "It'll be alright, Rory. You'll see, the Dark Lord will return and you'll have him back."

Aurora shook her head. "We shouldn't have put off the wedding. I should have married him right out of Hogwarts. I should have…" She looked at Hermione, asleep on a blanket nearby. "I should have had a baby so I'd have something of him."

"No!" Cressida corrected sharply. "Right now you're in danger. The Aurors will suspect you. You have to disavow all knowledge of everything. They're trying to destroy everything in connection to the Dark Lord. Be prepared for them to sink to the depths, especially since Barty was influential. You need to hide now, Aurora."

The young woman fell into fresh sobs and Cressida sighed. Her friends had seen her like this so many times she could barely count them. "It'll be alright, Rory. You'll stay here tonight, and tomorrow...tomorrow you clean yourself up and find someone to keep you safe from the Aurors' Unforgivables and Veritaserum."

* * *

Cressida had hoped that nursery school would have been better after daycare. Despite some rough starts and not really making any friends, Hermione had done alright in daycare. Unfortunately, during her lunch hour, she was called to the school to pick up Hermione, who, the teacher had informed her, was 'hysterical,' and refusing to calm down. Making sure her unnecessary glasses were in place, Cressida rushed to the nursery school, wondering what could have happened.

Apparently, the teacher was at the same sort of loss, wringing her hands. "I don't know what's wrong, Dr. Granger!" She insisted. "It was only reading time, and that's usually Hermione's favourite time of the day. She just started sobbing and we couldn't get her to stop!"

They led her to the office, where Hermione was clutching a picture book to her chest, hair frizzed beyond any hope of manageability, eyes red and puffy, and face tear-streaked. "Maman!" Hermione wailed, beside herself.

"What's wrong, _ma petite_?" Cressida queried, kneeling and wrapping her arms around her distraught daughter. "Why are you so sad?"

"They…" Hermione choked out, between gasps of sobs. "They...killed...Cissy!"

Cressida reared back in shock, eyes wide. She hadn't expected anything like this. " _What?_ " She demanded, wondering if Hermione had been cursed with the Sight.

Instead, Hermione opened the book she had been clutching to her chest, disclosing the pictures. It was some sort of fairy tale, which showed a woman who looked all but identical to Narcissa Malfoy dancing in iron shoes on one page, and engulfed in flame on the next page. "They set her on fire!"

Cressida had to struggle between laughing in relief and shaking her head. She turned to the teacher. "I'm going to take her home, Ms. Smoker. May we please borrow the book, so that she can see that her friend is not inside it when we get home?"

"Of course." Ms. Smoker said, shaking her head and wringing her hands. "We'll see you tomorrow. Have a good day, Hermione."

Hermione, drying her eyes with one of her mother's handkerchiefs, looked distrustingly at the teacher, but said anyway. "Goodbye, Ms. Smoker."

Cressida led her daughter away from the school and onto the tube, and then onto a bus, toward the safehouse that had been created for both of them. It was a place warded against all sorts of magic, including the underage trace. It was also their only connection to the Floo, hooked up illegally and untraceable through some of Lucius's contacts. She knew there was only one way to convince Hermione that Narcissa had not been burned to death, and that was to see her.

Once inside the cottage, Cressida sat Hermione on her usual chair, and went to the Floo. "Private Fireplace, Malfoy Manor!" she called, sticking her head into the emerald flames. It took only a few moments to ask the elf on the other side to pass a message along to Narcissa. While they waited for the blonde woman to join them, Hermione showed her mother the book, explaining the story and interspersing it with her own opinion about self-tightening corset laces and how Cissy must have gotten a bad batch of the Draught of Living Death. When she reached the end, she was crying again.

"Oh, _ma petite_." Cressida crooned, wrapping her arms around her daughter. "It's alright. You'll see. Narcissa is fine."

A moment later, Narcissa Malfoy appeared in the fireplace, gracefully brushing off nonexistent motes of ash and soot. "What's going on?" She queried, unsure as to why she had received such a message.

Hermione looked up from her mother's arms, and excitedly took a few steps toward Narcissa with an excited: "Cissy!," but then paused, mid-step and looked back at her mother. "How do we know it's _really_ Cissy?"

Narcissa arched an eyebrow at Cressida, who let out a little laugh. "Ask her something only Cissy would know." Cressida suggested to her daughter.

Hermione considered this, hand on her chin in thought. "When Draco and I send things, where do they appear?" She asked finally, as Narcissa had been the one to set up the 'false post' system for them.

Narcissa chuckled. "In the hollow tree in your front garden, and in the vase of the water carrier by the fountain at Malfoy Manor."

An excited smile crossed Hermione's face and she threw herself at Narcissa. "Cissy! I thought they burned you!"

Narcissa hugged the girl to her, petting her hair and looking to her friend in confusion. "What happened, Cress?"

"Nursery school." Cressida answered, and opened the book that had been dropped to the floor, showing the two pictures at the end of the book. "Notice a resemblance?"

Narcissa laughed, but shook her head. "Muggles. I'm fine, Hermione, really."

"I'm glad." Hermione answered softly.

* * *

"Again!" Aurora demanded, striking the floor with a staff and restarting the muggle record player.

"Aunt Rory, my shoes are pinching me." Hermione argued. "Can't we stop?"

"No." Aurora said, shaking her head and looking at the two children she was teaching. "Your parents want both of you to learn this."

"But dancing is for girls." Draco argued, pulling on the front of his dance robes.

"Your father dances, Draco." Aurora corrected. "Now, back in position!"

Curious, Hermione stopped, tilting her head. "Does mine dance?"

Aurora stopped, tilting her head. "What?" She asked the younger girl.

Hermione sighed. "Does my father dance? Draco's does, but does mine?"

Aurora closed her eyes and sighed. She should have known Hermione would back her into a corner with that. Ever since she had discovered that her godmother worked at the school with her father, Hermione had been pestering her to find out more about Severus. "Yes, he does." She said, after a moment. "Now back into position!"

Hermione and Draco traded a look of resignation and fell back into the position for the waltz.

"One... _two_...three... _two_...two...three...four...two... _three_ …" Aurora counted out, using her stick to lift Draco's arm slightly and poking Hermione in the back so she would stop hunching. "Five...two...three...six...two...three."

* * *

Hermione was seated in her back garden on the swing, beside her best friend, Draco. The next day they would both be heading to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. For most young wizards and witches this was a night of excitement and glee, but these two were frowning slightly.

"We won't be able to talk anymore." Hermione said with a shake of her head. "We won't be friends."

Draco frowned at this. "We'll always be friends." He argued. "Just that no one else can _know_ that we're friends."

Hermione frowned back. "You'll forget about me."

Draco reached into the pocket of his robes. "I got you a present." he admitted, pale cheeks slightly flushed. "I was going to give it to you before we left, but maybe now's better, so you have something to remind you that I'm not going to forget you." Most gifts he gave were wrapped by house-elves, expensive and presented formally. This one had been an impulse buy and he had kept it in his pocket for her. He dropped the bracelet of round moonstone beads into her hands.

"Draco…" Hermione said, holding up the bracelet in amazement, watching the glow of the jewels.

"It's not anything much…" Draco said, quickly. "I just know moonstone is used in lots of potions and the lady at the stall said it was good for protection and to keep a cool head and stay calm. I thought maybe you might need it while you're surrounded by Gryffindors."

Hermione slipped the bracelet on her wrist, and then threw her arms around the boy's neck. "It's the best present I've ever gotten!" She told him, completely missing the way his cheeks flushed. "I'll wear it always. Thank you, Draco!"

Draco hugged her back tightly, trying to hide his own nerves by reassuring hers. "You're welcome." He hated to think of her all alone, surrounded by _Gryffindors_ , but all the adults insisted that she must, and that he had to treat her like any muggleborn. That wouldn't be easy, but maybe the bracelet would help and remind her that it was just an act.

He hoped so, anyway.


	3. Chapter III: Lion's Roar

**Author's Note:** I have been amazed for the support for this story and want to thank everyone who has given their time to read it, and especially those who have reviewed and followed, and favourited. I hope you continue to enjoy it!

* * *

Hermione found herself alone and nervous as she approached the scarlet train. This was where her life would change, and she took a deep breath as she stepped into one of the cars, trying to remember everything Aurora, Lucius, and Narcissa had told her to expect. The train itself was a challenge, but it was a warm-up compared to what was coming after: The Sorting. She tried to recall everything she had ever heard about Gryffindors and repeat it to herself mentally: _Brave, bold, courageous, short-sighted, eager to right perceived wrongs and tend to see the world in shades of black and white._ She didn't know if she could do all that, but Narcissa had assured her that she could do almost as much good in Ravenclaw. Wit and learning were much easier. She could do books and cleverness...but she wanted to do her best, and that meant Gryffindor.

Her reverie was broken by an awkward boy opening the door to the compartment she had found for herself. "Um...sorry to disturb you, but have you seen a toad? Trevor...my toad...seems to have disappeared again."

"No." Hermione admitted, and then reminded herself to make friends and be nice. "I'll help you look, though! I'm Hermione Granger." She stuck out her hand with a smile.

"Neville Longbottom." The boy answered, a bit nervously, shaking her hand with a sweaty one.

"Charmed." She said, wiping her hand on her robes when he exited the car, looking for his missing toad. "Thanks, Hermione."

* * *

While she hadn't found the toad, she did find _Harry Potter_ and a redhead who didn't seem to grasp the difference between basic magical theory and nursery rhymes. She might have been taught the difference; but that didn't make stepping into the Great Hall any less intimidating. She was shaking with nerves, eyes scanning the room so fully that she could barely even hear herself talk about the ceiling and _Hogwarts, A History._

She focused on the Head Table, her eyes searching out Aurora, needing some reassurance from her godmother. She was relieved when Aurora nodded, just slightly, and then Hermione's eyes wandered across the table, cataloguing the faces and matching them with Aurora's lessons on the school and who was who...until she saw... _him_.

She had always known that she took after her mother. Everyone always said so, even the muggles from primary school who only knew Dr. Celia Granger. Despite knowing this, and despite knowing she shouldn't let her eyes linger, she searched his face for pieces of herself, something that she could cling to as an obvious tie or connection between them. Maybe the tilt of her eyes or the shape of the ears, she desperately wanted _something._ Still, better sense prevailed and she forced herself to refocus on The Sorting and the talking hat as Professor McGonagall ( _Head of Gryffindor House, Transfiguration Professor, Deputy Headmistress, strict, subtly favours her own House but thinks she's fair, cat animagus with too many pet birds to_ not _be suspicious_ ) called out the names of her fellow First Years to be Sorted.

When the woman called out " _Granger, Hermione!_ " Hermione didn't even have to pretend to be nervous, muttering platitudes under her breath. She buried the bitter thought of what might have happened if the professor had called ' _Snape, Hermione_ ' instead as far down in her stomach as she possibly could. She walked up to the unsteady looking stool, feeling all of the eyes on her as the brim of the old, worn, and slightly smelly hat fell over her eyes, cutting off her ability to see.

A voice spoke, in her head or in her ear, she couldn't quite tell. " _You_ are _a surprise."_ The voice sounded...oddly pleased. _"Whatever will I do with you? You've a sharp mind, quick and thorough, and logical for one so young. You could be another Hypatia if I put you in Ravenclaw, moulding the world with numbers…"_

"Gryffindor." She whispered quietly, thinking it even harder. "I want to be in Gryffindor."

 _"Yes, you do…"_ The Hat agreed. " _But does it suit you? Slytherin would nurture that ambition of yours, the vindictive thoughts you try so hard to suppress. Slytherin would be so much_ easier _for you. Simpler almost. Part of you wants to be there as well, to make them proud, to prove yourself worthy. You could even tell_ him _if you were a Slytherin."_

The Hat was trying to tempt her, trying to move her from what she needed to do, from who she needed to be. It saw into her mind and was offering her forbidden fruit it knew she wanted. She squared her shoulders, setting her jaw and narrowing her eyes against the darkness of the inside of the hat. She didn't like being manipulated. "I can make them proud in Gryffindor." She hissed quietly, not even audible to herself. "Just because it's not easy doesn't mean it's not worth it. I'm willing to sacrifice him never seeing me if I'm doing the right thing."

 _"Hmmm…"_ The Hat hummed, and she wondered if she had _pleased_ the damn thing somehow, before it spoke again. " _This is a hard road, child, harder than you know. You may well lose yourself, you_ will _lose others if you take it. There will be pain. Ravenclaw would suit you well, Slytherin too. You will never be first if I put you in Gryffindor, there will always be others seen as greater. Would you really choose to be Nimue over Circe or Hypatia?"_

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was hardly great, hardly the calibre of a mythical Witch, even if she desperately wanted to be that. "Yes. There are things more important."

 _"Well then, I hope you know what you've chosen. Off you go to…"_ The voice was not longer quiet, and shouted: "GRYFFINDOR!"

Flushed with victory as the Hat lifted from her head, Hermione scurried over to join her table, feeling as though she had done it. She had taken the true first steps into what she was always meant to do and be...and if she looked over at the Head Table and _wished_...well, it didn't matter, not really.

* * *

Lily's son was coming to Hogwarts. Severus knew that, it was all the staff was _talking about,_ and something inside him ached as the first years entered and he scanned their young, excited, nervous faces. Draco stood, a small mirror of Lucius hiding nerves behind an arrogant mask, and there, not far from him was the _boy_. Dumbledore was right, he did have Lily's eyes, but the rest of him...the rest of him was all _Potter_. Another cursory glance however, and he felt his heart skip. While Draco might be a miniature of Lucius, and Potter look identical to his father save for the eyes, there was a _girl_. A girl who was a tiny Cressida, down to the whiskey-coloured eyes and the ridiculously wild curly hair that Cressida had always kept straightened, slicked back and restrained with hair potions of her own invention unless she was alone... _or with him_.

He had to be imagining things. This was _impossible._ Cressida Dagworth-Granger was a Beauxbatons witch. She wouldn't send a child to Hogwarts. It was just his past trying to torment him, the image of Cressida in the same year as Lily and Potter's son. It was impossible. Severus thought of Cressida often, even more so after the war, when he had thought she would return, and he could make amends for how he had treated her unconsciously and by omission...until Narcissa had informed him kindly that _this_ had been a failsafe of the Dark Lord, that she was hidden in a place for the Dark Lord should he fall. That had made him wonder in his most cynical moments if he had sentenced both of them to isolation by aiding the Order. If he had put Lily before Cressida _yet again_ without even intending to do so. He had wanted to save his first friend, his first love, and Dumbledore had _assured_ her safety. he had promised to protect Lily if Severus spied, and Severus had had nothing of his own left, but the old man had failed and turned his guilt on Severus, who had acquiesced. Now, knowing that Cressida had been out there, waiting, hidden and now had to _stay_ hidden made his guilt even worse. He had failed _both_ of them. _Again._

 _"Granger, Hermione!"_ Minerva called, and the girl scurried forward, sitting on the stool. Severus felt the knot in his stomach tighten. _Granger?_ If she was Cressida's daughter, shouldn't it be _Dagworth-Granger_ , or whatever her father's surname was? _Hermione_ was a Shakespearean name, as the Dagworth-Grangers always used, the Queen of Sicily from _A Winter's Tale_ , transformed or resurrected after dying from a broken heart when unjustly accused of adultery and treason.

The girl was a hatstall, the hat muttering to itself for over five minutes, as the girl's shoulders straightened and tensed. Finally, the hat announced to the entire hall. "GRYFFINDOR!"

Hermione Granger jumped from the stool, looking strangely victorious, as if she had won a war in those five minutes, and scurried to the damnable Gryffindor table, sitting down gracefully next to the Prefect Weasley. He watched Lily's son get Sorted to the same House and then tried his best to go about his night as normal. but his thoughts were haunted.

He could remember clearly the night that Aurora had burst into the Death Eater meeting, saying Cressida was bleeding out and rushed off with a bag of blood replenishers, Narcissa, and his entire stock of dittany. It had been hours until Narcissa and Aurora had returned, at least three in the morning. Very few things took so long to heal even with an incompetent healer. That had been September... _if_ Cressida had given birth that night, the child would be a first year now. More importantly, _if_ Cressida had given birth that night, that meant that _he_ was the father. If Hermione Granger was the daughter of Cressida Dagworth-Granger, then _he_ was her father. He felt a bit sick.

In the Post-Sorting staff meeting, while most everyone was going on about Harry Potter, Snape had another student he wanted to bring up. "Yes, well, about one of the _other_ new Gryffindors." Severus said with a sneer. "The Granger girl...any relation to Hector or Orsino Dagworth-Granger and their family of potions masters? I did my apprenticeship with Orsino."

Minerva sniffed at him. "Not unless they've a few squibs in the family tree, Severus. The girl is a muggleborn. Aurora had the duty to break it to her mother and escort her to Diagon Alley and teach her about our world."

Severus shot a _look_ at the dark-skinned witch in the corner. He and Aurora had come to a truce after Barty had been sentenced to Azkaban and she had been protected from overzealous Aurors by Dumbledore, taking the Astronomy position at the school and convincing everyone that she, like the world, had been fooled by Barty and had no idea where his loyalties had lain. The once feisty and vivacious witch had receded into a quiet, lonely one without her other half and Severus knew how she felt...twice over. They were something resembling friends...unless the topic of Cressida or Lily came up. She was viciously loyal and hadn't forgiven Severus for what she perceived as his part in her friend being sent away. Even at eighteen she had been a kind of den mother, wanting to protect and heal, not to fight, which was why she never took the Dark Mark and only acted in a support capacity.

"She's dead clever," Aurora admitted, looking up from her usual lesson plans. "I think she wanted to buy out the entirety of Flourish and Blotts. Gravitated right to the section on jinxes, though. She'd have made an interesting Slytherin, if it weren't for the hat's orders."

Severus nodded, taking in this information as Minerva made an offhand comment about Slytherin blood politics. He would have to wait until _Friday_ to see the mysterious Gryffindor closer up. _Wonderful._ He wasn't about to go on a wild goose chase until he was sure, and he wasn't sure whether he wanted to be right or not. He had always assumed that Cressida had gone on the mission because of him, because he had not been circumspect with his feelings for Lily and hadn't understood his feelings for her. To be honest, he still didn't understand the knot of feelings he had for Cressida. He had never imagined, however, in his wildest imaginings that she might have been _pregnant_. Those imaginings were particularly creative and had included being chained up somewhere brewing impossible potions for years, married off for magical artefacts or secretly recruiting foreign wizards to new Death Eater groups, but never _anything_ like what wouldn't leave his mind now.

He was both dreading and anticipating Friday.


	4. Chapter IV: Double Trouble

**Author's Note:** Continued thanks for everyone who reviewed and favourited and followed. It really keeps me writing despite the flames I've gotten now and then.

* * *

Hermione Granger had had fantasies growing up about what life at Hogwarts would be like. She imagined that even in Gryffindor she would quickly make friends with her dorm-mates and every day would be stuffing her head with new and interesting magic. That...didn't really happen. When she smiled at the three girls in her dorm, and said "I'm Hermione Granger, it's nice to meet you," They looked at her like she had grown another head and then introduced themselves as if they were pulling teeth. She had thought it was just the first night, being in the new castle, with classes the next day, but as she got ready the next morning and heard them whispering about her hair, she realised that she wasn't really going to be able to make friends any easier at Hogwarts than she had at primary school.

That feeling had proven to be true, as classes went by and she kept trying to be friendly and talk about this and that, to no luck. It was depressing and she threw herself even harder into her books. In Astronomy on Wednesday, though, she sat between Fay Dunbar and Neville, and pretended to lean over Neville's star chart, hoping Aurora wouldn't notice how alone she was. She had a feeling her godmother wasn't fooled, and left as quick as she could, making sure that she wouldn't be asked to stay behind.

She didn't understand why she was having so much trouble. Within two days everyone had knotted into little groups of friends and she was left, trailing after people, desperately trying to fit in. At dinner she caught herself staring across the hall longingly at the Slytherin table. They were in the same school, but she missed Draco. She missed quick, biting remarks and banter and even listening to him prattle on about Quidditch. If she had been in Slytherin he would have never laughed at her raised hands in class or pushed her in eagerness to get out of class. She shook these thoughts away as soon as they happened, or tried to, anyway. She had her mission...but she had no idea how to make friends. So she tried to place herself by The-Boy-Who-Lived whenever she could, even though he was always glued to the vulgar Weasley boy. _(Honestly_ , his language, at _eleven!_ )

And then...it was Friday. And _Potions_.

* * *

Hermione Granger had been looking forward to this class since the time her letter had arrived. She settled into her seat at the front of the class excitedly, desperately wanting to get a closer look at her father. In class she could watch him and no one would suspect anything. She was, after all, an attentive student. The room was cool and filled with interesting things, but she nearly stopped breathing when he _billowed_ into the room like a shadow given form. She studied him, heart racing, praying she could make him like her. The war had taken him from her, and she wanted him back. She wanted all those things the girls in muggle primary had talked about when they were trying to hurt her for having a single mum.

He picked Harry out immediately, and Hermione found herself wishing he would just look _next to the boy_. She was right _here_ , and he wouldn't even _look_. She knew he probably shouldn't, for the same reason she wasn't allowed to sit with Draco. She had to be the muggleborn, but would a glance be so bad?

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," He said, and Hermione had to fight a smile at the way he spoke of potions, much like her mother did. Despite herself, she slid forward to the edge of her seat, his voice was soft and she didn't want to miss a word.

"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — _if_ you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Hermione was enchanted by the way he spoke, and knew immediately what she had to do. She needed to prove she wasn't a dunderhead.

* * *

Severus Snape knew instantly he was right in his first potions' lesson. The girl. Hermione, looked at him the way Cressida sometimes did, as if she were seeking approval and affection all at once. The muggleborn fiction was just that - a _fiction_. Given where she had been Sorted, undeniably the entire mission had been to plant a child in the Order's good graces, _his child._

He ignored the feelings this caused and focused on Lily's son. "Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Potter was taken by surprise, as Severus had expected. "I don't know, sir." He replied.

His daughter knew, though. Her hand had shot into the air as quick as anything. Severus ignored her hand and sneered at Potter instead. "Tut, tut — fame clearly isn't everything. Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"I don't know, sir." Potter said again.

Hermione's arm was stretched as high as it could possibly go without her bottom leaving the seat. She had that Cressida expression on her face again, and he could practically hear her thinking ' _Look at me! Look at me!_ ' She was actually beginning to _quiver_ in exertion, and he saw in sharp relief the two women: Lily, unknowing and uncaring and Cressida fighting for scraps of his attention. It made his gut twist as though _he_ had a bezoar stuck in it.

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Severus asked. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Potter shook his head and looked sideways at Hermione, who was now out of her seat and on her tiptoes, as if she thought Severus couldn't see her. "I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

Students laughed, and Severus looked over at Hermione and raised an eyebrow, nodding towards her, just slightly.

Hermione let out a breath of relief. "Please, sir." She said quickly. "Powdered root of asphodel added to an infusion of wormwood creates the base for a sleeping draught so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death, made even more famous in William Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet_. A bezoar is a stonelike concretion formed in the stomach of some animals, especially ruminants. The most valuable bezoars come from the Anatolian or Bezoar Ibex. The term comes from the Persian _pād-zahr_ , which literally means 'antidote,' and bezoars will counteract most poisons. Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant, _aconitum_ , or aconite, which according to Ovid sprung up from saliva of the three-headed-dog that guarded the gates of Hades." She spoke quickly, as though she was afraid he would dismiss her if she couldn't answer quickly and completely.

Severus would have been startled if he had not known her mother and grandfather, or even himself. He would have not been entirely surprised to prick her and find wit-sharpening potion or blood-replenisher in her veins instead of blood. As it was, he merely sneered at Potter instead. "At least Gryffindor has someone capable of opening a book. A point from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter." He turned a look on the rest of the class. "What are the rest of you waiting for? Copy that down!"

* * *

Severus did not go to dinner that night, too busy thinking about the discovery he had made, even though he had been preparing to hear the news since Hermione Granger had arrived at Hogwarts. He was prowling the dungeons when he heard hushed voices, when everyone should have been at dinner. It was only when he got closer that he recognised his godson's voice.

"You're drawing too much attention to yourself, knowing everything in class. Like in Potions today. You can't do that Hermione! You're supposed to be a muggleborn Gryffindor, not a Potions prodigy. What were you _thinking_?"

Hermione's voice, confident in his class, answered, wavering slightly. "I don't know. It's just...it's _Potions._ I love Potions. I just...wanted..."

Draco was silent for a moment, and much less harsh or petulant when he spoke again. "Are you okay, Mine?"

"Fine." Hermione said, clearing her throat. "It's just...harder than I thought. Everyone hates me. The girls in my dorm are all vapid chits who only want to talk about boys and clothes and _making fun of my hair_ , and the boys are all blowing themselves up or just generally being _useless_ , and I'm not allowed to talk to _you_ because you're supposed to _hate_ me."

Severus felt his heart go out to the girl, despite himself. She was in the wrong House and suffering for it. She had no one she could talk to on an intellectual level and her supposed blood-status was an impediment in communicating with the one friend she obviously had.

Draco's answer was cautious. "You could hex me. It'd impress them." And then, quietly, as if it was an afterthought: " _I_ like your hair."

"I'm not hexing _you_." Hermione said, annoyed at the suggestion. "You're my one friend here." She sniffed. "Besides, I'm not cross with you."

Severus had heard enough and took a step out of the shadows and towards the pair. "Wandering the castle when you're supposed to be at dinner? Hardly behaviour befitting. Malfoy, get to your Common Room. Miss Granger, a point from Gryffindor and detention with me tomorrow after dinner, get back to Gryffindor!"

The two students exchanged a worried glance and went in their separate directions as ordered.

* * *

Severus Snape was not a man who ventured forth from Hogwarts often, but this was not a normal night, and with that in mind, he ignored protocol, threw a handful of Floo powder and called out "Malfoy Manor!"

The parlour appeared and glanced at the empty room in irritation. "Lucius, Narcissa?"

It took a few moments, but soon the door opened and Narcissa Malfoy slid easily into the parlour. "Severus!" She said in something akin to surprise. "Is something wrong?"

"Rather." Severus agreed. "May I come through?"

"Of course!" Narcissa said easily, even though she knew what this was undoubtedly about. Without asking she turned to Lucius's bar and poured him a glass of firewhiskey, handing him the magically chilled glass as he stepped through the emerald green flames.

"Thank you." Severus said despite himself, taking a sip of the burning liquid that scorched his throat.

"I was wondering when you'd arrive." Narcissa admitted, pouring herself a glass of wine. "I knew it wouldn't take too long."

"She looks like her." Severus said, almost dully, without inflection. "When I saw her at the Sorting I thought the Fates were trying to taunt me."

"She does." Narcissa agreed. "It's a bit frightening actually, especially with how much Draco looks like his father."

Severus's nose scrunched up at that, it was an image he didn't want or need. " _Why?_ "

Narcissa sighed. "Because you love Lily." She said with a shake of her head.

"I would have…" Severus started.

"Married her because she was pregnant?" Narcissa interrupted, perhaps a little cruelly. "Or because Lily was already married, so Cressida was a solid, _reasonable_ second choice, if you couldn't have the girl you _wanted?_ " Her voice softened slightly. "She didn't want you to marry her only because she was pregnant. She didn't want to trap you...and she didn't want a loveless marriage."

"I love her!" Severus said sharply, dropping his glass in surprise as he realised the words that came out of his mouth.

"Do you?" Narcissa asked with an aristocratically arched eyebrow. "You never told her you did. I should know, Aurora and I are the ones who have to hear her talk about it. Poor thing's adrift right now. She's been focused on Hermione ever since she left, and now Hermione isn't at home and she's left by herself. I spent the last three evenings with her. She doesn't know what to do with herself."

"Hermione…" Severus said, trying to distance himself from the thought of Cressida and his own admission that he honestly had no idea if he really felt or just...said in the heat of the moment, in response to basically being called some sort of rake. "Does she know who I am? To her, I mean."

Narcissa laughed at that. "Does Hermione _Séverine_ Granger know who you are?"

Severus's eyes went wide. Many wizards and witches named their children with a parent's' name as a middle name - he was Severus Tobias Snape, and he knew Draco's middle name was Lucius, just as Lucius's middle name was Abraxas, but he would have never dreamed that Cressida would have given her daughter his name as a middle name. "Séverine?" He repeated, a bit hoarsely.

"Séverine." Narcissa confirmed, slightly amused by the look on his face.

"I want to see Cressida." Severus said, in a moment of decision. "I know she's hidden somewhere in the muggle world, passing off our daughter as a muggleborn - that was the mission, wasn't it? Pushing a Death Eater child into _Gryffindor_ as a muggleborn so that the Order would trust her when the Dark Lord returns."

"It was." Narcissa admitted easily. He had already figured it out, after all. There was no use in denying it. "After the prophecy, though, it changed to add to befriend the enemy of the Dark Lord." She finished her wine and sighed. "Give me a few days, and I'll see what I can do."

She leaned back into her plush chair amused. "Do you know whether Draco and Hermione have set up a dead drop yet?"

"Dead drop?" Severus repeated with a chuckle. "I think not. I caught them talking when they were supposed to be at dinner, why do you ask?"

Narcissa laughed at that. "Ages ago they had me set up a spell that allowed Hermione to drop a message in a tree hollow at her home with a password, and the paper would appear in the vase of one of the statues in the gardens here if the password was given, or vice versa. They then put their heads together and have been refining it ever since. Now the passwords are one-use only and in loose association with one another, usually in ways only they understand."

Severus shook his head. "They should, it's safer." He admitted. Narcissa nodded in agreement, and feeling slightly better with another promise extracted to try and allow him to see Cressida, he left, feeling slightly better.


	5. Chapter V: Jolene

**Author's Note:** I hope everyone is having a lovely holiday! I will be going to Pittsburgh on Boxing Day for a few days and will be going to a harry Potter marathon, so there may be a delay in updates until I return. Also, I know many people have issues with song lyrics in fics, and I generally avoid songfics for this reason. _However,_ I do have Hermione sing a little in this chapter, purely for plot related purposes. It will not become a common thing. Finally, once again, a warm thank you to everyone still reading this story, and who review, favourite and follow.

* * *

That hopeful feeling Severus nursed lasted until detention the next day. For the first time in years _he_ was the one nervous about a detention. This was made even more unfortunate by the fact that he had also given the Weasley twins detention the same night. He had briefly considered using the detention to try and bond with his daughter but dismissed that idea. He did not want Hermione to associate spending time with him with getting in trouble. Instead, he had stacked cauldrons for her and pulled out a barrel of flobberworms for the twins to prepare. They were troublemakers, undoubtedly, but their ingredient preparation was decent enough for student stores.

Fred and George arrived first and set to work without any need for instruction, and it was only a few moments later when a knock came on the classroom door.

"Enter." Severus drawled, managing to keep his voice completely normal.

Hermione entered, looking at the floor. "I'm here for my detention, sir."

" _Obviously_." Snape drawled. "You will be scrubbing the cauldrons at the back of the room, without magic. Your detention is finished when they are perfect."

"Yes, sir." Hermione answered, and immediately went to the back of the room, to the table beside the Weasley twins, who were looking at her in surprise.

"Merlin, what did a goody-two-shoes like _you_ do for a detention with Snape, Granger?" Fred asked in amazement.

Hermione opened her mouth, but Severus cut her off. "I caught her hexing Mr. Malfoy in the corridors last night."

George let out a low whistle. "Way to go, Granger!"

Hermione smiled a little, unsure of this praise, but at least she hadn't actually had to hex Draco. "Thanks." She said bashfully. "And it's Hermione."

The three Gryffindors lapsed into silence, and for awhile the only sounds were the scrape of scouring pads and the squish of knives through flobberworms. Hermione was accustomed to this chore. Her mother had a small lab set up in the safehouse where they would sometimes spend their days, and Hermione's first job was cleaning cauldrons and then rinsing ingredients. Because she was used to the feel and the rhythm of the job, she lost track of where she was and began to sing quietly. It wasn't a happy song, or one meant for eleven-year-olds. It was one she was accustomed to her mother singing, though she never knew why.

* * *

 _"Your beauty is beyond compare_

 _With flaming locks of auburn hair_

 _With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green"_

Severus Snape had stopped his marking when Hermione had started singing. He didn't allow such things in his detentions, but he had grown up in a muggle neighborhood, and he had picked up a few things. It was obvious that Hermione was not mindfully singing, which meant that this had to be a song she knew so well she could sing it perfectly and instinctively, and given the subject and the description of 'Jolene' perfectly matching Lily Evans, it must've been from her mother. Was this how Cressida had felt while they were together? Was it true? Could Lily...the _married_ , adult Lily, not the Lily of his childhood, have taken him from Cressida so easily?

 _"He talks about you in his sleep_

 _And there's nothing I can do to keep_

 _From crying when he calls your name, Jolene."_

Severus had a sudden strong flashback to the wee hours of the interrupted Death Eater meeting, the morning his daughter was born, the daughter that was now singing with no idea how her words were affecting him. He remembered the sullen anger in Aurora's eyes and her exhaustion as she railed at him that it was his fault, That: " _Cress would have never agreed to go on this mission if_ he _wasn't an_ arse _who calls for_ Lily-sodding-Potter _while sleeping in Cress's bed."_

 _"You could have your choice of men_

 _But I could never love again_

 _He's the only one for me, Jolene."_

Severus Snape was a man accustomed to hiding behind walls and shields. He never liked emotion overmuch, and his father had beat him enough over 'sissified displays' and 'acting like a pansy,' that he often refused to feel things at all. His daughter, however, singing such pointed words when he had dreamed of how different things could have been the night before made him want to put his head down and snivel, like he had been homesick and bullied in Slytherin as a first year with ratty clothes. He did not allow himself that luxury, however. He would never be that boy again."Miss Granger!" He snapped, instead. "This is a detention, not the Royal Albert Hall!" She started out of her trancelike state and flushed guiltily. He ignored it. "Three points from Gryffindor and another detention tomorrow."

"Yessir." Hermione managed, looking as though she were about to cry. She tried to shake herself and resumed her scrubbing, but she sniffled now and then, and her face was slightly crumpled in on itself. It made him feel like both an utter arse and the worst father in the world...but he had a reputation to uphold, and if he were soft on her, it would make her even more isolated in the Lions' House.

Now the Weasley twins were glaring at him. It was probably for the best, but he still felt badly about it. He just couldn't have taken it anymore. "Those flobberworms won't chop themselves, you two!" He snapped.

He returned rather viciously to his marking, and the room went quiet. After about an hour, the twins were finished, and Hermione was on her last cauldron. Severus knew the twins were waiting for her, but he wanted to speak to her, to make her realise that he was not being cruel because he didn't care about her or anything like that. "Miss Granger, stay behind please. I want to speak to you about your behaviour."

"Yes, sir." Hermione said, looking defeated.

Realising that they couldn't help the first year from the ire of Snape, or so he assumed, the twins slowly packed up and left, drawing it out as much as they could, much to the Potions Master's annoyance. He wasn't going to _hurt_ the girl. He watched them leave, before letting out a sigh.

"Sir?" Hermione's voice was nervous.

"Follow me, Miss Granger." Severus said, getting to his feet and opening the door to his office. Once she was inside and the door was closed, he opened another door and led her into his private lab. He had long ago discovered that while the headmaster monitored his office, his lab was far more protected.

Hermione didn't know what was happening, but she followed obediently. She had already made such a bad impression, getting a detention in her first week, let alone two that she wasn't about to question. The lab was smaller, but full of simmering cauldrons and ingredients, and she was immediately right at home. "Sir?" She repeated, cautiously.

Severus sat at the small desk in the corner, and looked at her. "Hermione," he said, voice softer.

Hermione froze. She had never heard him use anyone's first name, not even Draco's, and Draco was his godson. "Sir?" She squeaked again.

"You don't have to call me sir in this lab." Severus told her. "No one will overhear us here." He sighed a little. "And you don't have to be frightened of me. I'm not a monster." He took pity on her, and held out his arms. "Come here, daughter. Let me hold you a moment."

Hermione had a moment of utter surprise, before letting out a squeak of joy, and moving forward into his arms, pressing close and burying her nose into his chest. "They said you didn't know I existed." She admitted.

"I didn't." Severus admitted, finding the embrace less awkward than he had imagined, and stroked her hair gently. "But I knew when I saw you in the Great Hall before your Sorting. You are the image of your mother."

Hermione smiled happily, luxuriating in the kind of fatherly affection she had never had the chance to experience. "I thought you hated me." She admitted. "Draco said I was too much of a swot during classes this week, that I'm not supposed to know anything."

Severus frowned a little. "I could never hate you, Hermione." He said carefully. "But unless we are alone and somewhere where we cannot be overheard, I will have to treat you the same way I treat the other Gryffindors." He tilted her head up slightly. "And don't try and dumb yourself down for them...just make sure they think everything you know comes from books. A clever muggleborn is something they always look for and admire." Like Lily had been, and the cruelty of that was not lost on him.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief. "Good. I was afraid I had mucked it all up already." She admitted. "I was the only one in my Transfiguration class who managed to change their matchstick into a needle." She smiled at him in a way that made Snape's heart jump, all admiring and hopeful. "And I know all about keeping a cover, Papa. That's why Draco and I aren't allowed to talk."

Severus felt his throat close over when she called him Papa, and had to actually close his eyes to hide the way they had clouded over with things that wanted to be tears. "I'm proud of you." He said softly. "That's very good for your first week, Hermione." How had he ruined things in his life so thoroughly? If he had been a better man he could have raised his child himself. Instead, here she was at eleven and he knew next to nothing about her. He had done this to himself, but he regretted it with every fiber of his being. "I'll set up a time for us to spend time together, and should you ever need anything, I want you to know you _can_ come to me."

Hermione beamed a smile up at him like he had given her all the gold in Gringotts and he felt his heart break a little bit more, but smiled back. "How are you liking Hogwarts?"

Hermione considered the question. She wouldn't lie to her father, but she didn't want to seem spoilt or like all she ever did was whinge. "I like my classes." She said hesitantly.

Severus nodded to that, in what he hoped was an encouraging manner. He had never been too good at 'encouraging,' but for his daughter, he would try. "How are you getting along in Gryffindor? Are you making friends?"

His sharp eyes didn't miss how her eyes fell or how she had resumed playing with a bracelet of beads on her wrist. "I have Draco." She said quietly. "But...we can't...talk." She sighed. "None of the other girls like me and the boys are all useless, and Harry's always hanging about with _Ronald_ , who should really have his mouth cleaned out with wound-cleaning potion!"

"it will get easier." Severus said in a way that he hoped was comforting. He had no assurances that it was true, of course, his own experiences with Gryffindors did not suggest such a thing, but he had never been one of them, even in name only. "Hopefully the Weasley Twins will take you under their wing, or at least spread the reason for your detention around."

"Maybe." Hermione agreed, not really wanting to talk about school or her mission, just wanting to enjoy the moment, and so, lapsed into silence, inhaling the warm scent of her father's robes and committing everything to memory.


	6. Chapter VI: Try Again

**Author's Note:** I know this has taken forever, and I'm sorry. The first scene of this chapter was a bear to write, and I'm still not happy with it. It's quite difficult to balance a Severus who is struggling with many different kinds of love and loyalty without making excuses for the bad choices he made all around. I'm trying to show a Snape who is different with his friends than he is with others, and different with Hermione than anyone else, especially since I've already been accused of making it 'too easy,' for him. Hopefully semi-regular posting will continue after this hiccup.

* * *

Severus Snape took the summons seriously when he received a note telling him to come to dinner at Malfoy Manor on Tuesday. He told the Headmaster that he was hoping for information on what angry Death Eaters might be planning with the reentrance of Harry Potter into the Wizarding World. It was true, only he had ulterior motives under his usual ulterior motives. He had made a lot of mistakes in his life, and he felt like a bastard of the lowest order every time he thought of what he had put Cressida and Hermione through. Neither the fact that he had not intended to hurt them nor the fact that Cressida and he had entered into their relationship fully knowing his feelings for Lily could assuage his guilt. He had a lot of experience with guilt, it was an old friend, and knew where the chinks in his armour lay.

The Manor was unchanged, and it seemed almost wrong, now that he knew the truth and knew what they would be discussing tonight. It was ridiculous, of course, but he couldn't help but look around the halls and wonder how much time his daughter had spent here. Draco's personal house-elf appeared with a pop. "Master and Mistress have asked Gimme to show Professor Godfather to the small dining room." It squeaked happily.

Severus would have said that he knew his way, but didn't feel like dealing with a hysterical house elf, especially this one. "Very well." He drawled, setting off before the elf could pick itself off from the bow. It walked almost beside him, in an effort to get ahead of him to properly show him to the small dining room, apparating small hops, trying to get ahead of his long stride. By the time they reached the dining room door, the house-elf wheezed as it opened: "Professor Godfather, Master and Mistress."

"Thank you, Gimme." Narcissa said, smiling at Severus. "Please, join us, Severus."

Severus gave a a slightly-more-than perfunctory nod. "Thank you, Narcissa, Lucius." he remarked, taking his usual seat at the table. What was not usual was the fourth person at the table, sitting next to Lucius. "Aurora."

"Severus." Aurora said, voice cool and flat. "Narcissa says you want to see Cressida."

"Now, Aurora." Lucius interrupted. "The interrogation can wait a bit." He lifted his wineglass to his lips as the appetizers for the night appeared before them. "How are your classes going, Severus?"

Severus gave a drawling critical answer, as he would have in any other situation, but his heart wasn't truly in it. He found that he would have preferred the quick, sharp interrogation of Aurora over the interminable wait and pleasantries of his closest friends, but he played along nonetheless. The dinner crawled along until the interrogation resumed over the Beef Wellington.

"So, Severus," Aurora stressed, as if they weren't friends in Hogwarts, the only two teachers to come from Slytherin House, and able to commiserate over lost friends they were not allowed to grieve. "Why should we let you see Cressida?"

Severus paused, fork halfway to his mouth, and then put it back down slowly, bite uneaten. "I suppose the fact that I miss her isn't good enough for you." He said, self-deprecatingly. "I want to apologise for the self-absorbed bastard I was when we were together. I want to apologise for not being there for her and for Hermione. I want to know everything about her life as it is now, I want to know everything about our daughter's life, but...I also do miss her." He picked up his wine glass and looked away from the gatekeepers of his former flame, looking into the wine instead, as if the scarlet liquid could offer answers "I want to sit and talk for hours like we used to, I want to hear her ridiculous jokes that no one without a Potions Mastery can understand. I want to sit in the quiet with her, like we used to. I don't deserve her forgiveness. I won't claim to, but I want her to understand that I have missed her, and she wasn't just a...a warm body." H looked at his meal, now no longer hungry. "Even though I imagine she wouldn't be willing to try again."

Narcissa's eyebrows had climbed higher as Severus spoke, partially because it was rare to hear him speak at such lengths for any reason outside of his classroom. Taciturn described the man in his best moments. She nodded to herself. "Alright." Narcissa agreed. "In two days, I'll take you to go see Cressida. You can change into muggle clothes here. "

"Cissy!" Aurora argued. "That's it? You're just...going to let him see her? He's going to hurt her again!"

"You're overruled, Aurora." Lucius said, calmly. "I agree with Narcissa. He's already figured out the mission, and even if you're right, and he doesn't care, which is a ridiculous idea after that, he could jeapordise the mission just by claiming her, and Hermione wouldn't argue. He's made a point to play along."

"Men!" Aurora shot at Lucius, annoyed. "I better get a _very large_ portion of that chocolate torte I was promised to agree to this meeting."

* * *

Hermione Granger ran her fingers over the wooden box carefully. It looked like a standard quill box decorated with the constellation of Cassiopeia, but she knew better. She tore a piece of parchment and carefully wrote a note, disguising her handwriting.

 _D.M.ℾ_

 _I miss you. I feel like I'm failing. I have one job, and I can't seem to make them_ like _me. I can't seem to make_ anyone _like me. I_ hate _getting called a Mudblood when it isn't true, and what makes it worse is that Aunt Rory wants me to come by the Tower tomorrow before class. She already knows I have no friends. You have loads of friends! Tell me what I'm doing wrong._

 _H.S._

She placed it in the box, closed the lid, and tapped the lid with her wand. After opening the box to ensure that the note had disappeared, she closed the box again, and waited for a reply. It didn't take long, but the frayed end of her quill would have made anyone think it had taken days for the pattern on the box to change from one constellation to another. She flipped the box open and pulled out the note inside.

 _H.S._

 _I miss you too. Pansy tries, but she can't keep up. I know it's hard, but that's because you're stuck with the lions who wouldn't understand value if a goblin smacked them with the financial pages. Why do you think Weasley can't afford textbooks of his own? You're not doing anything wrong. I don't think Potter knows how making friends work. He wouldn't even shake my hand, after all! Tell Aurora you'll figure out something suitably stupid and brave to get them on side. Or just do their homework for them. You can do it. Just try again._

 _D.M._

 _P.S. - Don't forget, you're worth more than all of them put together._

Hermione smiled, more warmed by the postscript than the rest of it. The note was Draco all over, the snobbish prat she had known since she was tiny, and it made her feel better. At least she had one friend, who would rather spend time with her than _perfect_ Harry Potter or _lovely_ Lavender Brown, or even _pureblood_ Pansy Parkinson. She had Draco, it would get her through it all.


	7. Chapter VII: Double Agent

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone whose read and reviewed and favourited this story. You really keep me coming back to it even when I'm unsure. Today we get slightly deeper into the plot of Philosopher's Stone.

* * *

Hermione Granger was eleven-years-old (almost twelve, thank you _very_ much) and only a first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. However, she was also a spy, and had been trained from the cradle in keeping a double life. It wasn't easy, and she struggled with it, once at Hogwarts, but she fooled everyone (and her father _didn't_ count). That was why something about Professor Quirrell bothered her.

It wasn't until breakfast, the day after her second Defence Against the Dark Arts class, though, that she realised what it was, as she glanced at the staff table and saw his eyes as he twisted his head. His hands were shaking, his chin wobbling as he stuttered and spoke to Professor Flitwick, but when he turned his head, looking toward the far table, the tilt of his head, the way his nose wrinkled, almost imperceptibly made her think back over the day before, all the times he stuttered and jumped as if frightened in class.

She went over it, moment by moment in her mind, focusing on his expressions, almost muting the lectures in her mind. By the time breakfast had ended, she was sure. There had been no _true_ signs of fear. No eyes raised and pulled together, no disappearing, raised eyelids, no stretched lips. His body language didn't match his face. She didn't know what to do with this information. Why was he pretending to be scared? Was it because of the curse on the position, so he wouldn't be asked back during the next year or was it something else? Was he there to sabotage Dumbledore? To attack Harry? Did he just hate children? Whose side was he _on_?

She stewed over the thoughts the entire day, even as she kept up her now-usual constant stream of answers in each class. If anyone noticed that she was otherwise quieter, no one said anything, probably glad that the know-it-all had stopped trying to infiltrate their cliques. She'd show them one day, but today she had more important things to think about than her own loneliness or even how she was failing her mission. She was so distracted, in fact, that she was almost late to her meeting with her father, which she was passing off as having questions about potion interactions that she had brought up in the footnotes of her last essay.

She rushed as quickly as she could to get to his office after she realised how close she was cutting it. She had very little time with her father and she wasn't giving a single minute of it up for _anything_. She knocked, politely, despite knowing he was expecting her, just in case one of his Slytherins had come to see him.

When he opened the door, and looked down at her, gesturing her inside she smiled. "I wanted to ask you some questions about my footnotes on my essay, Professor Snape." She said quietly, and then followed him through to the lab, where the act could drop. She pulled herself up onto a stool that had not been there the last time she was in the office, and noted with pleasure that it was just the right size to allow her to see into the cauldrons on the high counters, and maybe even help. "I'm sorry I was almost late, Papa." She apologised, flushing. "I got distracted."

Severus was surprised by the apology, she hadn't _actually_ been late, but then he remembered that she was always the first person in the classroom. "It's not a problem, Hermione. What distracted you so? Another essay a foot over the required length or some new idiocy of your Housemates making?" His voice had not changed from its' usual drawl, but he really was interested in what took up her time and that mind of hers, aside from the few times he could see her in a week.

Hermione bit her lip. _Technically_ , she was not supposed to discuss the details of her mission with anyone but Aunt Rory, Narcissa, Lucius or her mother. _However_ , that rule had been in place _before_ she had met her father, and she knew that her father was one of the Dark Lord's most trusted servants, his skill as a spy had made her the perfect choice to carry out her mission. Surely she could trust him with it? Plus, it wasn't as if Professor Quirrell had anything really to do with her mission...probably.

Decision made, she sat back on her stool and regarded her father. "It's probably nothing, but...Professor Quirrell." She said slowly. "I've thought something was off since I had my first lesson with him, but today I figured out what it is." She made a face, not wanting her father to think her paranoid. "One of the first lessons I was taught growing up was that you can't conceal your instinctual reactions, they happen too quickly, you have to react in a way that blends your first reaction into something that you want to show." She explained. "How to melt contempt into frustration, fear into surprise, that kind of thing." She kicked her feet in the air, a childlike move that only served to highlight how incongruous and adult her words were in comparison to her eleven-year-old self. "Professor Quirrell's body language doesn't match his facial expressions, or what he says. He stutters and his shoulders are tight and forward like he's frightened, but his eyes don't raise or pull together, his lips don't stretch thin, his eyelids don't rise and disappear." She paused. "I probably sound ridiculous."

Severus had expected any number of things to be distracting his daughter, but this hadn't made the list. He had thought that he was in for complaints about the Gryffindors to which he could commiserate, or some opining of loneliness, with which he could empathise and share some stories about his loneliness in school. Instead, he was getting discussions of suspicious activity that was better than some intelligence he had received during the war from _adults_. It was quite strange how it both saddened him that his daughter had been trained in such things so young and proud that she was so _good_ at it. "On the contrary." He assured Hermione, running a hand over her hair. "You sound like an intelligent young lady with suspicions and evidence. What else have you noticed?"

Hermione practically preened at both the compliments and the comforting hand on her head. "He always stutters in a rhythm." She admitted. "Real people who stutter don't stutter quite like that, as if he's counting in his mind, and his shoulders and hands shake in opposition to one another." She admitted. "What's bothering me is that I can't figure out why. Whose side is he on? Or is he just afraid to be strong-armed into returning next year and playing a character?"

"Indeed, these are all good questions." Severus answered, taking a seat beside her. He had his suspicions about what Quirrell might be up to, but it was hardly something he wanted his daughter getting into. She had only been in his life for far too little time, and she was already the most precious thing in his life. "However, I don't think they have anything to do with you or your mission." He hated the words he had to say, to admit that his daughter had a mission as much as he did. The problem was that those missions were in opposition to one another as much as Quirrell's shaking hands and shoulders. As time went on, however, he found himself reconsidering his priorities. "If it will relieve your mind, I will look into this and find some answers."

Hermione's face exploded into a smile, and before she could stop herself, she had flung herself at her father again, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Would you, Papa? Oh, _thank you_." It would be absolutely lovely to have one less thing to worry about, especially when she had yet to find answers for the important things bothering her.

Severus found himself in yet another hug, and had to actually fight to keep from smiling, as he hugged the girl back. "Of course, Hermione. If your concerns are allayed, however, I do have some important things to ask you."

Hermione nodded, her head still buried in her chest. Her father was an awfully good hugger. "Of course, Papa." She answered, voice muffled in his robes. "Is it about my boil-cure potion? It _was_ a shade redder than it should have been, but Ron kept distracting me."

Severus couldn't help himself, at the question, he found himself laughing at the absurdity of her question. "It was perfect." He said, instead. "You'd have to trade brains with one of the dunderheads to be less than brilliant at potions, my girl."

Hermione looked up from the black wool at that, another smile splitting her face at the way he called her 'my girl.' It reminded her of the may her mother called her 'ma petite'. "Do you think I could be a Potions' Mistress like Maman and you someday?"

Severus found his mouth quirking into a half-smile despite himself. "I think you could do anything you put your mind too. The teachers are already talking about how clever you are in the faculty room." It was actually proving to be exceedingly difficult to not join in on praising her, or worse, puffing up like the proud father he had no right to be when the subject of Hermione Granger came up among the other staff. "Actually, I wanted to let you know that I'm seeing your mother tomorrow...and ask you what you wanted for your birthday."

Hermione couldn't help but get her hopes up at that, pulling back and moving back to her stool to watch his face. "Are you and Maman going to be back together?" She asked excitedly. "Are we going to be a family? You could polyjuice into a muggle if we had to go out in public, couldn't you?"

Severus sighed, as he had worried about this kind of reaction. "Hermione, I haven't seen your mother for over twelve years. I don't want you to get your hopes up. All I can say is that we are going to talk, and no matter what happens, we both love you." It felt strange to be saying those words, but it was true. He may be uncertain about his feelings for Cressida, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he loved their daughter.

"Yes, Papa." Hermione said, with a little abashed sigh, but a twinkle in her eye that said she wasn't going to give up hope and if she had her way, her parents would be together sooner rather than later. Severus knew better than to trust that look in a Slytherin, and while she might be festooned in red and gold, he had no doubt whatsoever that his daughter was a Slytherin in her heart of hearts. "How do you know when my birthday is?"

Severus frowned, reliving those frightening moments almost twelve years ago, pacing in Lucius's study half the night. "Aurora came into a meeting for dittany and potions, because the Healer hadn't brought enough." He truncated. "I thought your mother was injured, and stayed at Malfoy Manor until Aurora returned, saying the danger had passed. When I saw you...it was a simple matter of arithmetic."

Hermione nodded, face serious. She had never been particularly good at choosing presents. "I don't know." She admitted after a moment. "Maybe Maman can give you some ideas. Or you can look at my book collection when you're home and see if there's anything I'm missing or that you'd think I'd like? Narcissa always gives me clothes, Lucius gives me pocket money, Aunt Rory gives me fancy things normally, like tapestries and astrolabes, one year she gave me my own set of gold scales. Draco…" She frowned. "I can never guess what Draco will give me, but it's always perfect." She held up her wrist, with her ever-present bracelet of moonstone beads. "Right before we left for Hogwarts he gave me this to help me keep a cool head and stay calm when dealing with Gryffindors."

Severus wanted to wipe a hand over his face. Narcissa had hinted as much, but was he _really_ going to have to deal with his godson, spoiled little scion he was, going after his daughter? He almost preferred the idea that _Potter_ would be after her. At least _then_ he could terrify the boy spitless. How could he scare off the boy who had been calling him 'Uncle Sev' since he could form the words?

And he _still_ had no idea what to get her for her birthday.


	8. Chapter VIII: Sweet Child O' Mine

Severus Snape stood outside the townhouse, next to Narcissa and stared at it. It was infinitely nicer than Spinner's End, of course, and he wondered if things had been different where they would have lived, the three of them, as a family. He swallowed hard, and straightened the collar on his muggle suit nervously.

Taking pity on him, Narcissa chuckled and rang the bell, wondering if things were looking up for her friends. Both Cressida and Severus would be happier if they could work things out. Of course, if things didn't work out, it could be even worse, but given the emotion Severus had shown, Narcissa was sure it would go well.

Severus felt something drop to his feet when the door opened, and there stood Cressida. She looked different, most notably the short hair, and the glasses hiding her brown eyes, but despite eleven years, she was obviously still Cressida. "Cress…" He said, half in shock.

"Sev…" Cressida answered, looking just as nervous.

"And I'm Cissy." Narcissa said, shaking her head. She pushed them into the room. "Come now, you can't do this standing on the front step." Smiling, she closed the door behind them, and sat on the swing on the front portico, letting them have their privacy, but there if she was needed to break it up.

* * *

Severus tripped awkwardly into the room, recovering and brushing himself off nervously. "Cress, I…"

"Would you like some tea?" Cressida interrupted him, already moving to the table where a tea service was laid out. "Do you still take your tea black? I can't imagine that would change but you never know, it's been years, of course, and…"

"Yes, thank you." Severus said, cutting off her babbling with a fond smile that felt foreign on his face. "And yes, I still take it black." He had almost forgot her tendency to ramble when nervous. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, Cressida."

"You have nothing to apologise for." Cressida replied, with a bit of a wince. "You never lied to me, or hid that you loved someone else. I accepted that."

"And I was angry and vengeful and a little stunned someone could desire me, and I didn't treat you like I should have." Severus admitted, though it was difficult. "I was so fixated on Lily that I couldn't see what was in front of me, or understand what it was I felt." He frowned into his tea. "If I'm to be honest, and you deserve that, I still don't understand what it is I feel for you, Cress, but I do _care._ I hated myself for trapping you away from the world."

Cressida watched him in interest, unused to hearing him say so much about his own feelings. Usually the only things he would talk about on at length were academic in nature. "Thank you." She admitted. "I still love you, Severus."

"I know." Severus said, a bit sardonically. "If Aurora hadn't read me the riot act, the fact that Hermione seems to only know only the best of me would have been a clue." When she winced at his words, and he realised that the 'I know,' was what he had always said, he rushed to correct himself, even though he hated talking about emotions. He already felt raw and vulnerable, but he had done Cressida a great disservice all those years ago. "I don't know if I truly understand love, Cress. I won't lie to you and say I do, but you do _mean_ something to me. I don't know what to call that feeling, but it is there. And I do love Hermione."

"How is Hermione?" Cressida asked. "How did you find out?"

Severus quirked an eyebrow at her. "The girl is identical to you, Cressida - and I've never seen a first year that thrilled to be in my classroom, let alone practically stand on her bench to get attention."

Cressida groaned at that. "She should know better!"

"I believe most took it as an over-eager muggleborn wanting to show off." Severus reassured her. "But I still wouldn't be shocked if she bled potions."

Cressida laughed at that, though it was a bit watery. "I know. She used to ask for me to read her potion books as bedtime stories, after a muggle storybook convinced her muggles tried to burn Narcissa."

Severus found himself _actually smiling_ at that. "She's brilliant, Cress. All her teachers rave about her."

"Is she making friends?" Cressida asked, cautiously.

Severus shook his head sadly. "Gryffindor doesn't suit her well." He admitted, wryly. "The muggleborn story keeps the Slytherins away, and the Ravenclaws are annoyed at being outdone by a Gryffindor. The Hufflepuffs, well, I'm not sure there. She keeps trying, though."

"She takes after us," Cressida said, wryly. "Neither of us can claim that we were overburdened with friends."

Severus could only nod, taking a sip of his tea. "Hopefully it will improve. You have done wonderfully, Cressida. I…" He trailed off, slightly. "I regret that I missed it, but you did what was best for our daughter. I am...remarkably ill-suited to deal with children and never had a positive role model to emulate. I fear I would have ruined her long before now."

Cressida looked surprised by this, but only shook her head. "I won't pretend that I never thought you would have preferred other children to another witch. I did fear you would find Hermione lacking because I was her mother, but…" She swallowed hard. "I can see I was wrong. You _will_ be a good father, Severus."

Severus flushed, but shook his head. "Not if I can't even find a gift for the first birthday I'm in her life. She suggested you might have some ideas?"

* * *

Cressida smiled at Severus, really smiled, from the corners of her eyes to the dimples in her cheeks. "Oh, I have some ideas."

Hermione didn't want to get out of bed on her birthday. She had had a midnight Astronomy class the night before, and Aunt Rory had kept her after, slipping her a few presents, and stuffing her full of sweets. She hadn't minded at the _time_ , but now getting up seemed like a monumental bother. Grumbling to herself, she wished she could just curl deeper into bed and be done with it, but she had built up her reputation, and she needed to get up.

Bleary-eyed, she headed to breakfast, ignoring everyone, and falling into her usual seat on the edges of the first-year Gryffindors. At least there was tea. It wasn't as good as Maman waking her with crepes piled high with strawberries and cream, and her annual new birthday dress, that she would get to don before they travelled to the safehouse, where Aunt Rory and the Malfoys would be waiting. At least there were pastries.

She wasn't expecting presents when the owls came. Everyone from Draco to her mother had given Aurora their gifts to be passed on the night before, but much to her surprise, an owl dropped a box right onto her plate. Opening it, she found a book on alchemy and a note: ' _To the most precious child._ ' She smiled, alchemy was something she hadn't yet started to study, but the crossovers between Potions and Transfiguration did make it right up her alley. She smiled brightly at the Head Table, but wondered why her father hadn't waited until their meeting later that night to give it to her.

* * *

Hermione had hoped that her good mood from the birthday present at breakfast would stick with her through the day, but the snubs from Lavender and Parvati, and then Ronald's insensitive digs just made her sad. By the time she had morosely finished dinner, she didn't even bother reaching for a serving of pudding. It was officially her worst birthday ever. She hadn't even gotten to talk to Draco. There was at least one bright spot, though, her upcoming visit to the dungeons. Still, she had trouble managing her usual excitement. You'd think one person, one person in this castle would wish her happy birthday _on_ her birthday. It wasn't hard to pretend to be morose as she entered the Potions classroom, as if she had detention. With no one around, she heaved a sigh and headed for the lab. "Papa?" She said quietly, as she closed the lab door behind her.

Severus attempted a smile, but t looked awkward on his severe aquiline features. "Happy birthday, Hermione." He murmured, holding out a package. "I thought about bringing you a fairy cake, but I didn't want to encourage bad habits like eating in the lab."

Hermione took the gift and tilted her head. "I thought you sent me the book I got at breakfast, Papa." She frowned, suddenly worried. "If it wasn't from you, who was it from?"

Severus frowned, suddenly concerned. "Let me see it, Hermione."

Hermione immediately started going through her bag. "I mean, I knew it wasn't your normal handwriting, I just thought you had another, like how my Snape handwriting is different from my Granger handwriting." She explained, pulling out the volume with the note pressed inside, waiting to be a bookmark. "Here, Papa."

Severus took the book, and his heart plummeted at the title, even as his throat closed over at the note. Was the Dark Lord grooming his daughter to be his heir, or was it purely her position as a spy that made her ' _the most precious child._ ' He found he didn't like either answer. He wanted to wrap his daughter up in his arms and protect her from the Dark Lord and his service, except how could he, when she had been groomed and trained for His service? He checked it for spells, being especially thorough looking for compulsion spells in particular before handing it back, begrudgingly. "It's safe, but I don't know who sent it."

Hermione was bothered by this, and quickly put it back in her bag. The _actual_ present from her father was much more interesting. She opened the box, to find a necklace, with a silver coin at the bottom, the coin had a head with two faces.

"A Prince legacy." Severus explained. "Janus, the Roman god of beginnings and endings, transitions, war and peace - a god of contradictions, supposedly charmed to help us with patience and protect us from the worst of our decisions." He gestured slightly. "May I?"

Hermione nodded gratefully, staring at the simple necklace, that meant so much more than any of the expensive jewels she used to envy Cissy. This was an actual _heirloom_ from her very own _family_.

"I've added a few more charms for protection." Severus admitted, as he placed it around Hermione's neck and clasped it. "I'm sure you'll need some sooner or later, whether it be from your ridiculous Housemates or your...tasks." In actuality, he had put every protection ward he could possibly imbue into the metal on it, but he wouldn't tell her _that_ much. "Happy birthday, Hermione."


End file.
